t gentleness. `Show me that I have done wrong,' he
said, `and I will submit: until I am better instructed I cannot recant;
it is not wise, it is not safe for a man to do anything against his
conscience. Here I stand; I cannot do otherwise. God help me. Amen.'
There, auntie, don't you agree with me in giving the crown of moral
courage to Martin Luther? It's an old story, and I've learned it quite
by heart, for I was always fond of it, but it is none the less true on
that account."
"Yes, Walter, clear boy," replied his aunt, "I must heartily agree with
you, and acknowledge that you have made a most excellent choice of a
hero in Martin Luther. Not a doubt of it, he was a truly great and good
man, a genuine moral hero. For a man who can be satisfied with nothing
less than what is real and right; who is content to count all things
loss for the attainment of a spiritual aim, and to fight for it against
all enemies; who does his duty spite of all outward contradiction; and
who reverences his conscience so greatly that he will face any
difficulty and submit to any penalty rather than do violence to it, that
is a truly great man, exhibiting a superb example of moral courage. And
such a man, no doubt, was Martin Luther; and I believe I can see why you
have chosen him just now, but you must tell me why yourself."
"I will, Aunt Kate. You see we are in Worms now. This is the council-
hall; before dinner to-day was the time of meeting; and my dear father
was in his single person the august assembly. Amos, the best of
brothers to the worst of brothers, is Martin Luther. He might have kept
himself to himself, but he comes forward. It is the hardest thing
possible for him to speak; if he had consulted his own feelings he would
have spared himself a mighty struggle, and have left his scamp of a
brother to get out of the scrape as best he could. But he stands up as
brave as a lion and as gentle as a lamb, and looks as calm as if he were
made of sponge-biscuits instead of flesh and blood. He ventures to
address the august assembly--I mean my father--in a way he never did in
all his life before, and never would have done if he had been speaking
for himself; but it was duty that was prompting him, it was love that
was nerving him, it was unselfishness that made him bold. And so he has
shown himself the bravest of the brave; and I hope the brother for whom
he has done and suffered all this, if he has any shame left in him, w
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